worlding is a human right

Tag: poet

psychic night your hands have never felt skin that thinks on its own; he intended to trick time, untick the clock, put his clavicle on your lips and you knew. when he reddened your neck by tracing its shape as if to pin a map for a land to conquer, you quivered. A flag waved, he knew. then slowly he entered with both a vow for something and a doubt somewhere— what’s missing and found, no one knew. so you stared at the blank wall as he did, spaced by warm sheets, wounded alone. Smokes warped and … Continue reading “Psychic Night” by Lorhenz Lacsa

` I am tired of worrying my youth away, I am tired of being worried, I am tired You want to hold on to it, that certain lightness of being You said child, child: once it goes, never comes your way again ` Simone says “ain’t nobody perfect ’cause ain’t nobody free” Couldn’t be perfect, lightness forbid, could never be free I am tired of worrying my youth away, I am tired of being worried, I am tired ` Only have my words, warping the Eye turned toward the world Yearn to reach those masterful heights, paralyzed by victory … Continue reading “Anhedonis, Anhedonia” by Aïcha Martine

ouroboros i am reborn again &again my toes crawl up to my eyes& plunge fractals apart i am a snake eating its own tail i am eve saying yes and fucking herself silly on her fingers sibilance cries make me whole again, whole again w/ pupils blown — coming full circle . hypnotize, hypno tize me ( moan ) wonder why—? snakes aren’t real have no legs sit themselves in circles instead of straight lines . we take after one another sure venus is beautiful but can she sustain life ? is she … Continue reading “ouroboros” and “we take after one another” by Alexis Diano Sikorski

grow more hands if you’re happy and you know it become a monstrosity If you’re happy and you know it and you really want to show it give me the skeleton of everything that’s gone extinct give me the fossil of optimism If you need water or will wilt and you know it sit still and pray for water feel yourself wilting and wilt Look into the night sky tell it I want to put you in a bowl as if you were a fish to illuminate my room as if you were the night … Continue reading “If you’re happy and you know it” by Nicholas Alti

83. To Make Poor Paper not Flow When You Write on it. Dip the paper in alum water. I, Hohman, will hereafter pour a little water on the alum and moisten the paper. Then I will see whether one can write on it. From “The Long Hidden Friend”, Journal of American Folk-lore (1904) Again, some kind of alchemy at work retracing speech in the turning color, in the sighing snow. Dream of the mirror house on another shore, where a direct gaze is evaded where one speaks in the winding steps of a shadow on the far … Continue reading “A Clove Scented Winter” by Zeny May Dy Recidoro

Your sexual preference is the strand of spider web across my eyes this morning, Annoyed, I swipe it away; it is perfect and persistent; it laughs at my effort, yet doesn’t let go. My wanting you is for what – I don’t know – as if new clothes would make me Somehow happier – more complete – as if a male outfit could dress me less like a pauper, More like the butch empress who shuns the requisite lesbian clothes Our time was not for naught but smacks of chocolate mints after dinner, you want one so badly especially after … Continue reading “Not on my lips anymore” by Elisabeth Horan

BURN I sit in front of the fire, the wood so dry it pops, embers rain out, a small burn marks the rug, evidence of the offense. When I met him the spark glowed hot. How quickly I reacted, knowing to let it smolder could mean a home in flames. I don’t always do this, extinguish the fires that burn low, snuff out the desires before they can rage, burning everything to the ground. By the end of winter the rug is filled with tiny black holes, embers leaving their mark, a reverse constellation. By the end of winter I … Continue reading “Burn” and “Salt Water Haibun” by Courtney LeBlanc

Hello shattered baby. Lie down – and come, I want to be free with you – I want to be something new for you – to be your new pet. I’m so fun: you drinking / me drinking fun. I want our party to be the kind they love – they covet our things, our makeup, our thighs, our non-existent pantilines. We are goddess lovers / we are body-snatchers. We are what love wishes it could be – calls us up and asks for advice on her asymmetrical nasal profile and pesky mustache whiskers. Bitch. Serves her right. Took yum … Continue reading Yum Yum Time by Elisabeth Horan

Listen in on a private reading by Noelia Young, a slam poet based in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Her poetry discusses important themes: racism, wisdom, growth, and survival. … Continue reading Four Poems by Noelia Young